and like Alexander, sigh for “more worlds to conquer.” Why should _he_ be proud? That question rather startles us; but the answer is at hand—because he has the greatest Magazine in the world—and the prettiest girls, and the _most of ’em—to read it_! It is estimated that 60,000 beautiful women are in love with _Graham_—the Magazine, of course—and Graham is as proud as Lucifer about it; and Graham prides himself, too, that his subscribers _read_ his book, and are not satisfied with the picture books, which in younger days had so many charms for innocent eyes; when the whale in the spelling-book spouted hugely, even to the top of the page, and the camel had a hump that was a wonder—when stale love-stories and most sickly verse, with fragments disjointed of the veriest cold meats of literature were a marvel—when homilies upon graces, made up of whalebones—the last agony of fashion which it is agony to look at—were food for dreams. We hold you by the button, reader, merely to mention the various excellencies which crown the feast; that our _new type_ and finer paper, are worthy of special mention. Whether anybody ever had such type—or paper—or ever will have, is not the question; for in these days of special self-sacrifice, it will not do to be too modest, but—Our book is Grand for June. * * * * * The Fast Press.—No allusion is made in the title of this article to the extremely fast press which prints Graham—nor to the press which is fast upon the International Magazine—nor ironically to the slow teams which drive some of our cotemporaries with their small editions dismally along; nor yet to the American Press—which is rather progressive—but to _Hoe’s_ immortal invention—the which, in compliment to the Press of the Union, we illustrate in our present and next issues in our usual happy manner. The entire establishment of Col. Hoe is to be set forth in pictured beauty before the readers of Graham in the June and July numbers. We have paid the artists $400 for the drawings and engravings, and merely mention the fact that those who suppose _first rate wood engravings_ are cheap, may take breath and reform their calculations. No indifferent old block, is ever put off upon our readers as a choice and rare engraving—nor do we submit to any imposition from engravers. Our work _must_ be of the first order—or it is not ours. Some that we have rejected, we see elsewhere, and the publishers appear to be proud of their bargains—and cry, excelsior! * * * * * “Graham for May, with twelve engravings and 112 pages of reading, is already on our table—the gem of the season. Long live Graham. Why don’t such a clever fellow get married? That’s what we want to know—and so do the ladies. Then, friend Graham, you would not be troubled so much with your _batch_ of ‘love letters.’”—_Gazette, Hallowell, Me._